


Dandelion In The Wind

by WitchyWriter



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Male Character(s), Canon Era, Canon-Typical Behavior, Dialogue Heavy, Fluff, Gay Panic, Love Confessions, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Third Person, Protective Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Burn, are we shocked? no!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:26:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23844439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchyWriter/pseuds/WitchyWriter
Summary: Taking place over the course of two days, Jaskier tags along with Geralt on another beast slaying adventure. He tries his best to keep his crush on the White Wolf a secret. It doesn't work in the slightest however, and Geralt begins to question himself.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 90





	1. Two Rooms on the Right

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work for this fandom, so any constructive criticism is appreciated!

The village they were led to was in the middle of nowhere. Thick patches of forest and snow-peaked mountains bordered the thatch-roof houses and a singular tavern the entire village flocked to several times a day. Typically, Geralt denied jobs such as this for the demander of his services offered too little for far too much. Beggars can’t be choosers though, and Geralt was starting to grow overwhelmingly hungry. He had more than himself and Roach to feed now, a certain bard tagging along had made everything all the more complicated and every coin necessary.

“Now when you said ‘small village’ I thought something more like the last place. That was small, but this? _This _is practically a camp.” Jaskier complained, strumming absently on his lute and looking around in mild disgust. Beggars can’t be choosers and Jaskier knew he was in no position to whine; he’s the one that wanted to come along. That fact however, still didn’t prevent him from doing so.__

__Geralt stopped the horse and looked down at him, he had grown used the bard’s incessant chatter but every once in a while, it annoyed him more than usual. “Did you want to eat?”_ _

__Jaskier didn’t answer, the Witcher’s gaze left him speechless. These pauses had begun happening soon after their first meeting; this silent appreciation bordering on admiration for the way Geralt’s eyes changed when he got slightly fed up. He didn’t quite know why, but the change from his usual brooding stirred something in him; made the muscles in his stomach tighten and his arms go weak._ _

__The gaps in conversation this caused were always noted but often ignored, Geralt had assumed it was because the bard for once had nothing to say in response. What Jaskier had no intention of revealing though, was that it had nothing to do with the attitude and everything to do with how beautiful the Witcher appeared to him in these moments._ _

__The villager who required his help had stopped up the road with hands on his hips and a nervous sweat on his brow, “Ahem! The inn’s over here, rest up for the night. The beast only comes out at sunrise.”_ _

__Without looking up, Geralt kicked Roach’s side and went in the direction of the inn; leaving Jaskier behind staring like a fool at the empty space. He lagged behind for a minute before he came to and ran after them, his voice breaking like a teenager, “Hey! Wait for me!”_ _

__The main lobby of the inn was a dark tavern, dotted with its fair share of seedy men and women trying their best to make ends meet. Everyone was well aware who Geralt was and the bar stools had emptied with his entrance, no one wanted to cross paths with the Butcher of Blaviken. It hadn’t bothered him in the least, people may be staring, but at least they weren’t speaking to him. The room was tense when Jaskier finally made his way inside; low murmurs and unashamed stares in Geralt's direction making the air staler than it already was._ _

__He confidently walked over to him, brooding at the bar with a tanker full of ale in his fist and his “Don’t fucking talk to me” face on. Ignoring this completely, he slipped onto the stool next to him and prodded at his side playfully with his elbow. Geralt grumbled as a response, taking a massive swig of his drink and not giving Jaskier so much as a glance. He wanted to be left alone, although he knew that with such a companion it wouldn’t happen anytime soon._ _

__“You’ve managed to find two rooms in a village this small? I’m impressed.”_ _

__“Hm.”_ _

__Jaskier waved down the barkeep for a tanker of his own, taking quick notice at how she looked at Geralt. It wasn’t with the same sense of distrust or fear that he had grown accustomed to seeing. No, she quite fancied him and made no secret of lowering the front of her dress to better display her assets. Jaskier felt a swing of jealousy take him over, which thoroughly confused him. Although he fully understood the alluring gaze, as it didn’t take an alchemist to see that Geralt was quite handsome, the look in her eyes still made him upset._ _

__He shook his head and chugged half of his drink when it was placed in front of him, alerting Geralt’s attention with a raise of his brow, “Slow down over there, can’t have you get slobbering drunk with a crowd like this.”_ _

__“What’s that supposed to mean? Can’t two attractive men get as hammered as they please?” Jaskier turned his head and looked the Witcher up and down, his eyes dancing across Geralt's face and poorly trying to hide it, “You’ve already got me beat by a whole tanker, I can at least _attempt _to catch up.” Without coming up for air he finished the rest of his drink and waved down the barkeep for another.___ _

____“Not when one of them gets hunted after like a monster at every stop.” His voice was its usual husky and flat tone, the small grumbles making Jaskier visibly shutter._ _ _ _

____Geralt dropped some coin on the table and collected his things, it had made him uncomfortable to hear Jaskier call him attractive. He wasn’t lost on the stares women often gave him and the small comments he heard as he passed through towns; whether he cared or not though was a different story. But to hear it come from his companions’ mouth startled him, he’d never heard such things from a man before._ _ _ _

____“We’re in the two rooms on the right.” Without looking back at him, Geralt turned away and disappeared upstairs._ _ _ _

____Jaskier stared at him as he left, his elbows on the counter and letting out a deep sigh. The barkeep watched him, a small smile playing on her lips as she walked over with the pitcher of ale. She startled him and he looked away from the stairs in embarrassment, taking another heavy drink so she could top him off._ _ _ _

____“You have your eye on the Witcher, don’t you?” She laughed as she saw him get flustered and try to not meet her eyes._ _ _ _

____“Wh- what? What makes you think that?”_ _ _ _

____“Well for one, you’re absolutely shite at subtlety. That’s a look of yearning if I’ve ever seen one,” She pointed at his face and then to his tanker, “And for another, you’re drinking like a man with something to say.”_ _ _ _

____He rolled his eyes and gently pushed the drink away, not because she had said anything of course, he had just conveniently started getting a headache, “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”_ _ _ _

____“Men only drink like that when they’re meanin’ to forget or when they’ve got somethin’ on their chests. You seem like an upstandin’ lad that’s not in the business of forgetting and there was somethin’ in those eyes of yours when he looked at you that isn’t there now.”_ _ _ _

____The accuracy annoyed him. If she had seen it, that certainly means that Geralt had as well. Then again, women tended to be more keen on such things and Witcher’s weren’t exactly known for their emotional subtly. Rather than make her an enemy or a means of competition, he decided to ask for her help; he needed as much as he could get._ _ _ _

____He sighed again, this time in defeat, “Alright, you’ve got me. What am I supposed to do? I don’t think he even likes me much as a travel partner, let alone as an actual partner!” Jaskier put his forehead to the bar, he had never let the idea slip aloud before._ _ _ _

____She pat the top of his head in pity, “I don’t think you have to worry much about that darlin’, there’s something under that handsome hunk of muscle. You’ve just got to break through and get to it.”_ _ _ _

____Jaskier didn’t know what that meant, but he was too tipsy and embarrassed at his confession to ask. He got up from the bar and attempted to pay for his drink, only to find that Geralt had paid the tab already. He smiled, maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as he thought._ _ _ _

____The inn only had four rooms, two on each side of a long hallway with a small balcony that overlooked the tavern underneath. None of the doors were numbered, so he took a wild guess and opened the first door on the right. He peaked his head in slowly, it was silent and appeared to be empty. He was quickly was proven wrong however, the low sound of humming coming from the tub room catching him off guard. Jaskier flushed, realizing that he had walked into Geralt’s room instead of his own. The Witcher hadn’t heard him come in though over the sound of his humming, so for now he was completely undetected._ _ _ _

____It didn’t last very long, the bard walking straight into Geralt’s pile of armor strewn haphazardly across the floor with a loud clatter._ _ _ _

____“Fuck,” He heard Geralt move in the bath, the sound of water splashing to the floor and a low grunt, “It’s just me! Um- I wanted to - uh, thank you for paying for my drink!”_ _ _ _

____“Hm.” Geralt had hoped to be left alone with his thoughts for the rest of the evening, Jaskier once again not allowing this to happen. He had already confused him enough and the last thing he wanted to deal with right now was another comment he didn’t have the energy to process._ _ _ _

____Jaskier, instead of taking the hint and leaving, walked further into the room and closed the door behind him. He hadn’t meant to impose, but through liquid courage he had wanted to see the barkeeps advice set into motion. The tub room was just off the main bedroom, with a low archway instead of a proper door. He could see the back of Geralt’s head, his bird’s nest of white hair having a subtle glow in the candlelight. His fantasy of brushing it, so for once it looked acceptable rather than its usual mess, came to him. A blush crept over his cheeks at the idea, making him chuckle to himself._ _ _ _

____Geralt heard him and quickly grew irritated, “Was there something you wanted? Or are you just going to stand there?” He dumped the small bucket of water over his shoulder and turned his head to the side._ _ _ _

____There was a long pause before he could respond. Jaskier had become caught up in the way the muscles in Geralt’s bicep and jaw flexed when he spoke. She was right, he had it bad for him. “Is a thank you not a good enough reason to stop by?”_ _ _ _

____“Not when I’m in the bath.” He poured another bucket of water over himself, completely missing his head and spilling water all over the floor._ _ _ _

____Jaskier steeled himself and walked into the tub room, much to Geralt’s annoyance and surprise. “You keep missing your hair and what good will you be on the ‘morrow if you can’t even see, that mop’s going to get you killed.” Jaskier picked up the bucket and a small sliver of soap, making himself comfortable on a stool behind him._ _ _ _

____Geralt furrowed his brows and quickly tried to turn around, but Jaskier covered him with water before he could object. He had never let anyone touch his hair besides himself and he wasn’t about to start now. Usually, he would have snapped the arm of anyone who dare even try. Jaskier however, didn’t elicit this same reaction out of him and he allowed it; confusing both the bard and himself._ _ _ _

____With a final rinse, his hair was once again white as snow. Geralt stayed still for a moment, partially out of shock at what he allowed to just transpire and also because he had no desire for his companion to see him naked. Jaskier saw a brush sitting on the side table and bit his lip, debating whether or not to take his chance at furthering this already intimate moment and ‘breaking through’ as the barkeep suggested._ _ _ _

____Geralt stood though, making Jaskier silently disappointed. He had quickly reached for a cloth on his way up to preserve some of his modesty. Geralt refused to meet his eyes, only turning his head to the side and splattering water all over the room with his still-wet hair. “Um- thank you, I need to rest now.”_ _ _ _

____Jaskier, slightly embarrassed for something Geralt hadn’t even seen him do, scratched the back of his neck and awkwardly stood up. Promptly tripping over his stool and knocking into the doorframe, “Right, yeah of course. Um- no problem, anytime! Well not anytime, I’d like to think that you know how to wash your own hair. But yeah- uh alright, I should be going now, goodnight!” He walked backwards out into the hall and closed the door with an accidental slam. “What the fuck is wrong with me.” He smacked his forehead on the wall and walked into his own room, throwing himself onto the straw mattress and falling asleep before he could take his shoes off._ _ _ _

____In the next room over, Geralt tossed and turned for hours. The light of the moon through the window did nothing but keep him awake._ _ _ _

____“Why didn’t I stop him?” He thought over and over to himself._ _ _ _

____He couldn’t find a reason, only butterflies in his gut and the lingering feeling of Jaskier’s fingers in his hair._ _ _ _


	2. Keep Far Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning of the fight comes along, Jaskier is told to stay behind but follows Geralt anyway. He only catches the tail end and his disobedience prompts a surprising confession from the Witcher.

Sunrise showed itself through the windows of their rooms, shining directly into Geralt’s eyes as he slowly unfurled himself across the mattress. He hadn’t slept much, his mind had kept him awake over what the thoughts of Jaskier meant for much longer than he’d ever care to say. He didn’t understand them, he had only experienced such things when women were concerned. Jaskier was his companion; his loud, annoying, overbearing companion that he oftentimes wished he could just lose in the woods. But then, the feeling of his fingers slowly tugging at the knots in his hair came back. Geralt had never let any woman do that before, he hardly did it himself.

There was no time for such things now, the beast he was set to kill would be upon the town within the hour; he had to be ready. While he dressed, he caught his reflection in the chest plate of his armor, taking a careful look at Jaskier’s handy-work. Not only had he washed Geralt’s hair, but he had also braided a small section behind his ear. It was the piece that always fell in his face when he was riding Roach. 

“Hm.” A twinge in his stomach reminded him to keep moving, a feeling that was also something new which he currently didn’t have the time to mull over. He quickly finished putting on his armor and gathered up his things. 

Jaskier woke with a start to the sound of a heavy knock at his door. He had slept like a rock throughout the entire night, only waking once to relieve himself. The events of the prior night didn’t weigh on him as it did Geralt; he had done much more in much less time with a lot less to go on multiple times before. The occasional romp in the sheets with wives, and then later their husbands, wasn’t something unfamiliar to him. He had always just been that way, not in terms of getting around, but in terms of always liking what he liked. What was in their pants never particularly getting in the way, until of course it needed to. 

That being said, he had no desire to exhibit his usual pattern of lascivious behavior with Geralt. This was different, he had made Jaskier feel different and Geralt in and of himself was not the typical chap. 

This was not to be easy and Jaskier didn’t really want it to be anyway. 

“One moment!” He rose from the bed and tripped on every step to the door, he was not a morning person. Geralt was impatiently waiting for him, tapping his fingers on the doorframe and grumbling under his breath. When Jaskier opened the door, the bard grinned instinctively but quickly caught himself before it reached his eyes. The natural reaction surprised him, he didn’t know when he started doing that and didn’t want Geralt to notice. 

Geralt didn’t wait to be addressed, “I’m heading out before the monster gets too close to the village, don’t follow me and stay here. This thing has killed ten men already and I don’t want you getting in the way.” His voice was low and even toned, showing almost no emotion besides his hard stare. 

“Ten men? Woof,” Jaskier ignored his direct instructions to stay at the inn and started to put on his shoes, “This would make a great ballad- oh don’t make that face!”

“No song, you’re staying here.” He was extremely serious, he didn’t want Jaskier to stupidly risk his life just for some silly ballad. Especially not when it was his job to prevent such a thing. Geralt had nightmares of Jaskier dying at the claws of one of these monsters on several occasions. Although he couldn’t and would never cry, there was always a shot of pain in his chest whenever he imagined it. 

Jaskier rolled his eyes and kicked his shoes back off with a huff, putting one hand to his chest with the other raised and bent at the elbow, “I, Jaskier, swear that I will stay in this stinking inn while you, Geralt of Rivia, have another thrilling adventure.”

“Hm.” Geralt nodded his head and turned towards the stairs. 

Jaskier stomped his foot and groaned, “Are you kidding me! Let me come along, please!” 

He stopped and only turned his head, Jaskier catching the smallest smirk, “Well since you asked so kindly, fuck no.” 

With that he disappeared into the tavern and steadily out into the street, mounting Roach with ease and riding off into the forest. Jaskier ran to his window and watched him leave, he was jealous of his ability to just go wherever he pleased and not bat a single gorgeous eye. More than that, he was pissed that Geralt ordered him to stay here like he was a baby.

“I’m not some child he can just boss around! I’m a grown man!” Jaskier, now fueled with a mix of anger and petty defiance, put his shoes back on and grabbed his notebook, “I’ll show him some grand adventure, just fucking watch me.” He mumbled under his breath as he left the room and went out into the road, following the horse tracks left in the dirt. 

His shoes had not been made with the thought of intense treks through the forest in mind. By the time he found Geralt and Roach, the fight seemed to be almost completely over. The beast was nearly dead and the Witcher’s once clean hair now matted in what Jaskier couldn’t tell to be his own blood or not. Neither had spotted him and he intended to keep it that way, the worse outcome of the beast finding him or Geralt was yet to be determined.

He found a hiding spot behind a boulder and watched in amazement as Geralt absolutely demolished the beast with just his sword and his fists. The thing wasn’t large, just overwhelmingly fast and constantly appearing behind him the very moment he was about to strike. Jaskier became quickly distracted though, the muscles in Geralt’s arms and the way he effortlessly sent his sword flying through the air made him swoon. It was rare that Geralt let him watch the adventures he went on and oftentimes he listened as a means to not die. When he did manage to catch a glimpse, it had never ceased to amaze him how strong Geralt was. The knowledge that he communed with someone that could kill him so easily filled Jaskier with a sense of fear and excitement.

In earnest, the intention of this endeavor was to have some material to write an epic ballad, but instead it had quickly turned into Jaskier becoming a silent cheerleader. Whispering words of encouragement under his breath and lightly clapping his hands when Geralt nailed a punch.When the final hit was made and Geralt held the beast’s head in his hands, completely covered in a mix of blood and sweating like a pig, Jaskier lost himself in the trill of the moment and jumped from behind his trusty hiding spot. 

“Now that’s what I’m talking about! WOO! Has to be your best one yet, maybe coming close second to-“ 

Geralt’s head snapped up, his eyes going wide with surprise before quickly turning into angry slits. He started towards Jaskier, the head of the beast still clutched in his fist and his amber eyes glowing like a wildfire. He couldn’t believe that Jaskier had outwardly ignored him; actually he completely could and in the back of his mind almost expected it. 

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” Geralt was furious, his already husky voice growing deeper with each step he took. 

Jaskier laughed nervously and held his hands in the air, “Oh? Geralt is that you? Funny meeting you here! How’s it going?” He gestured to the severed head, “Better than that guy I bet, ha.”

Geralt was not amused and threw his bloody trophy to Roach’s feet, his full attention now on the bumbling man in front of him. He wasn’t enraged at being watched, though it was well known between the two of them how much he hated an audience. It was the fact that Geralt had specifically told him how dangerous this monster was and he went after it anyway all for one of his insolent songs. 

“I specifically told you to keep far away and to stay at the inn! You could have gotten hurt or even killed, do you understand that?” 

Jaskier hated being yelled at, especially by him. He knew Geralt would never hurt him, at least he hoped not, but the considerable size difference between them and his killer instinct made the yelling all the more intolerable. It felt like staring down a bear; a muscular, white haired, chisel-jawed, incredibly handsome bear. 

He didn’t back down though, keeping up his comical nature despite feeling bad for upsetting him. “See, that’s the key phrase ‘could have’. With Roach as my witness and myself still breathing, I can say with full certainty that I don’t have so much as a scratch.” 

Geralt still stared him down, almost completely speechless at how inept Jaskier was being. He took a step closer to him, the smell of sweat and blood filling the air between them. “When I tell you to stay somewhere, it’s not because I enjoy watching you get irritated and have a fit. This is serious, dangerous business Jaskier, not some sing-along.” Geralt pushed past him and walked in the direction of the village, making a dull clicking sound with his tongue to get Roach to follow.

Jaskier called out, now to his back instead of his blood-stained face,“Why do you care so much, it’s not like you enjoy my being around anyway.” 

He stopped in his tracks, thinking for only a split-second before whipping around and charging back towards him. Geralt’s matted hair flew in a heap behind him while he walked, the small braid coming undone and falling into his eyes again, “Because I care about your safety you absolute twit! Why would I let you follow me around only to get you killed by some monster? Is that not the one thing I try and prevent?” 

The bard had nothing to say in response, both being lost in his eyes and struck by his words. Geralt took his silence as some sort of an answer, giving a final grunt and turning back to Roach. He spent the walk back wrapped up in his head once again, the only guidance being his horse taking the lead. His declaration of caring for Jaskier’s safety was the first thing his mind had come up with, none of his usual thinking or careful wording going into it at all. It confused him as to why care was the place his mind immediately went, rather than continuing to point out Jaskier’s utter carelessness in risking his own life.

Through all of their ‘ride-alongs’, as Jaskier affectionately called them, Geralt had become fully aware of all of the bard’s annoying habits. He had also, however, steadily managed to ignore the small quirks he had come to enjoy. The way his voice cracked when he sang certain notes, how he choked a little when he drank ale too fast and how gentle he was with Roach. 

He stopped walking and put his hands on his hips, a confused expression coming over his face at the track of his own thoughts, “Where the fuck did that come from?” 

Geralt knew that his job was not only to kill monsters, but to also keep innocent people safe. Jaskier had grown beyond that of a normal innocent to him, but also slightly more than a friend. Geralt had heard of and seen men romantically involved with one another and it had always peaked a certain something within him. These moments were always quickly pushed away though, as his frequent and always enjoyed meetings with women led him away from such curiosities. 

He knew though, now more than ever, that these were not things men felt towards other men that they simply called friends. Geralt couldn’t find a word best suited for it and didn’t care to, it would only make him more confused. Right now all he wanted to focus on was being mad at Jaskier and not what it made him feel to imagine looking into his eyes or the sound of his laugh. 

Jaskier waited for him to fade from view before following, although it hurt to be yelled at, he couldn’t help but smile. To know he was cared about and not just something to keep out of the way made him feel hopeful once again.


	3. Toeing the Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things grow tense between them at the inn as Geralt begins to process his budding feelings for the bard. Another confession is made, this time from a fed up and angry Jaskier.

Jaskier didn’t see Geralt until dinner, as he had been hiding in his room all evening to avoid the inevitable conversation the bard would strike up. He didn’t want to talk about the morning’s events and most certainly didn’t want to see the look in Jaskier’s eyes that always seemed to come over him when they spoke. It was the way women looked at him when they had convinced themselves he was ‘of a certain type’. A look of poorly hidden desire and subtle sadness, for what he could never figure out and didn’t particularly want to. 

He had always seen it, the bard never really being able to hide anything he felt in his bright and expressive face. Geralt caught himself thinking about how the sun reflected in his rainy gray eyes and the way he smiled this morning when they saw eachother. It made him chuckle to himself before he realized where his mind was wandering, quickly getting out of bed and looking around as if someone had seen him.

Killing this beast had given them a surprising amount of coin, so dinner tonight was to be the best stew they could get in a village such as this; which wasn’t saying much. Geralt made his way into the tavern and saw Jaskier sitting alone at the bar and talking with the barkeep. He seemed happy, despite everything earlier, and the two of them seemed to be getting on quite well. 

They had been talking about him and their little squabble in the woods. The barkeep had been extensively impressed by Geralt’s outburst, “I didn’t think Witcher’s could feel such things, hm.” 

Jaskier explained to her just how dashing he looked fighting the monster and the small glint of genuine compassion he caught in Geralt’s eyes when he said he cared about him. She seemed to be convinced that whatever Jaskier was doing was starting to work, to ‘unravel him’ as she so delicately put it. 

“It won’t be long now before he’s practically sweating in your- oh there he is, it’s showtime honey.” Jaskier looked over and quickly turned away, he had washed his hair and somehow managed to get all of the blood out by himself. The small section that he braided before now only loosely twisted and tucked behind his ear; the effort made Jaskier smile. The barkeep winked at him and walked away, leaving them alone and going off the help someone else. 

Geralt walked over and sat down next to him, eyeing up Jaskier’s new friend, “I leave you for an afternoon and you’ve already chatted up the prettiest woman in the room?” 

He scoffed, “Hardly, she’s not exactly my type.” 

“Then what exactly is your type?” Geralt cocked an eyebrow and looked at his eyes, silently wishing that the look from earlier would return. 

Jaskier fumbled for a second, trying to put the words into a coherent, nonchalant sentence but instead he just looked the Witcher up and down and snapped his head forward, “Um- well, women are fine, you know, etherial creatures really. But,” He gulped and turned to Geralt who hadn’t looked away despite Jaskier’s hesitation, “I don’t quite mind their boyfriends, would even prefer them sometimes.” 

“Hm.” 

“What about you?” He asked innocently, waving down the barkeep for a round and two hot bowls of whatever hot meal they had.

Geralt thought silently the entire time that it took for them to be served, this was the same question that he had been asking himself since he and the bard met. He managed to play it off casually though, taking on his usual ‘Don’t approach me’ face and staring off into the distance with a scowl. Jaskier hadn’t stopped glancing in his direction though, meeting his eyes and looking for just a moment too long.

Jaskier hadn’t taken this brooding silence as any sort of cue to leave him alone, “Earth to Geralt! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re checking out the blokes outside.” He laughed and started eating, hearing Geralt’s breath hitch in his throat and a low grumble follow.

“Pardon?” Geralt was growing annoyed at the implications and prodding questions. He came down to eat, not for an interrogation.

“Hey, hey! Relax!” Jaskier put his arms up defensively, “Only a lucky few of us have been able to say such things, pity to only have select options. Would be a real shame with someone of your…sensibilities.”

Geralt turned to him, his hulking form making the stool creak beneath him and causing Jaskier to gulp. He was surely confident that Geralt would never hurt him but after watching him fight, there was no doubt that it wouldn’t be very hard physically to do such a thing. Jaskier wasn’t afraid though, seeing the look of flickering anger in Geralt’s eyes and the way he flexed the muscles in his jaw only made him seem all the more attractive in that moment. 

“What's that supposed to mean?” 

“You have to be joking, have you looked in a mirror recently?” He had grown considerably more confident and less worried of whatever consequences were to come, “Looking the way that you do, it would be a crime for only women to gather that gaze of yours.” Jaskier’s eyes lingered on his biceps and his hands, now flexing casually in and out of fists.

A warm feeling in his gut struck Geralt all of a sudden, his irritation bubbling away into some new sensation. He wasn’t offended or uncomfortable at what Jaskier was not-so subtly implying. It was the idea that he was right, that Geralt did feel these things and he could no longer deny them to himself. For someone of his stature to be caught so off-guard embarrassed him and contributed to his frustration with the bard.

He knew this now, but it didn’t stop him from ordering another pint of ale and not acknowledging what was just said beyond a low grunt. Jaskier had seen the confusion and subtle worry flash across the Witcher’s face and with that he was satisfied. If what he was saying was wrong, he would’ve already caught a swift shove or punch to the arm by now. Geralt would have left in a huff and not spoken up at all, but as he suspected, this didn’t happen. 

They ate dinner in silence, Jaskier scribbling the lyrics to his next ballad in a small notebook and the man to his left completely drowning himself in ale. He watched this in silence, he had never seen Geralt drink like this before. The barkeep also took notice and made her way over, lowering the tanker at his lips with her hand and giving him the once-over. 

“You’re drinkin’ like a man who’s got somethin’ he wants to forget.” She glanced quickly over to Jaskier and winked when Geralt looked away. 

“Is that what you would call it?”

She gestured around the room, “Aye, we see quite the handful of your types around here. Those that drink to forget and those that drink for courage are quite the common fellows.”

Geralt caught Jaskier’s stare in the corner of his eye, that same look of sadness and longing plastered all over his face. He grew uncomfortable all of sudden, both because of the woman’s credulous implications and the man he so desperately wanted to look at sitting so close yet so far. 

“I’m going to my room.” He said it more to himself than anyone else, tossing coin on the table for both meals and steadily leaving the tavern to retreat upstairs.

He spent the next hour pacing back and forth and talking out loud to himself. Deciding there and now that tonight was the night he was finally going to be honest with himself. Geralt closed his eyes and let his mind decide what he was to say, his own trepidations and second-guesses being pushed to the side. 

“I love that stupid bard.” This wasn’t a shock to him, but the admittance had made his eyes go wide. He had never felt this for someone before and now that the thought came unabridged, a slew of others came along with it. “I like when his mop of hair falls in his face when he can’t keep up with Roach. And when he tilts his head back when he laughs, and- and how he sighs when I walk into a room. Like I’m the only one there.”  
He jumped at a soft rapping on his door, clamping his hand over his mouth and praying that whoever it was didn’t hear him. 

“It’s me, I brought up the rest of your dinner. You should probably-“ Geralt opened the door and upon seeing Jaskier, his face softened a noticeable amount. The bard’s lips opened up into a large smile which he didn’t care to hide. They stood like that for a moment, staring at one another and completely unaware of the world around them.

Jaskier snapped back into reality first and immediately felt a burning sensation in his hands,“Can I come in? Or did you want to be left alone, quickly, this is burning my fingers.”

Geralt felt a burning sensation of his own, only it taking a now familiar occupancy in his chest and causing him to falter, “Sure, uh- leave it on the table.” 

He ate in silence, not intending to mention anything he was doing minutes prior in worry of the bard’s laughter or judgement. Even though Jaskier was doing everything short of outright saying it to show him that he felt something far beyond companionship. They both were almost completely oblivious to the clear feelings of other.

Jaskier scribbled away in his notebook while Geralt ate, he hadn’t been asked to leave and he had no plans of going anywhere. Every few minutes, the Witcher would cough or shift in his seat, prompting Jaskier to look up and then furiously write something down. 

He stretched on purpose and watched Jaskier’s tongue poke through his teeth as he put something else down, “Why do you keep doing that?” 

“Do what?” He snapped the book shut and started to flush.

“Write shit down whenever I move, there’s nothing notable going on. I’m just eating.”

Jaskier laughed nervously, he had been writing some lyrics to his ballad that placed an emphasis on the Witcher’s figure; he simply wanted to be accurate, “Just finishing up the song, I wanted to make sure everything was phrased right.”

In truth Geralt didn’t mind the alluring gaze, he just wanted the feeling in his stomach to go away, just for a minute. He pushed his bowl to the side and leaned forward, “And you have to look at me like that to do it?”

“Like what?”

“Like you want me on top of you.” 

Jaskier sputtered and looked away, wiping his growingly clammy hands on his chest, “That’s hardly the face, trust me you’d know that look if you saw it. Besides, looking extensively at my subjects is a part of my job.” He was speaking softy to try and preserve the calm nature of the room. 

The Witcher snorted and turned back to his meal, “The women who look at me like that say it’s their job too, no one likes a liar.”

“You clearly do.”

Geralt choked on a carrot, “What was that?” 

“Oh nothing.” The bard crossed his legs at the knee and looked out of the window absentmindedly. Trying desperately to not pay any mind to the small, confident smile that Geralt had or the way he slowly stretched over the back of the chair to put his chest on display. 

He leaned to the side to make eye contact with Jaskier, “You know you always do shit like this; with you words, with your face, with those eyes. You never say anything but always look like you mean to.” The words of the barkeep came back to Geralt, “Why is that?”

Jaskier became furious all of a sudden, the utter lack of putting two and two together overwhelmed him with emotion. He rose from his seat and looked down on the Witcher for the first time, “Because I love you- you, you twit! How it’s taken so long for you to even come to some semblance of an idea that I looked at you differently is insane! Do you know how hard it is to travel around and see everyone gawk at you? How women practically throw themselves at you? I’m sorry that I’m not a woman, maybe then you’d have an easier time seeing what’s lying in wait right in front of your stupid fucking perfect face.” 

Jaskier narrowly missed Geralt’s outstretched arm desperately trying to grab onto him and made a bee-line for the door, not once looking back. The slam of the door shook the entire room.

He sat alone at the table, his trembling hand still reaching out into the empty space, “I love you too.” He said now only to himself.


	4. Silent Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt realizes that he has to tell Jaskier how he feels, but talking isn't exactly his strong suit.

The next morning, Geralt spent his first moments of consciousness thinking about Jaskier. His dreams had been swimming with images of him, constantly reminding him of everything that he had wanted to say, but just couldn’t. Geralt’s need to be right and more than that, never missing an opportunity for a good jab, often came over his common sense. His conversation skills were already sub-par as it was, to mix attraction and dare he even say love into the mix made it all the more abysmal. 

If there was one thing he knew, it was that they would not be leaving this inn until Jaskier knew the truth. Everything he felt, how much he cared about him and anything in between. How that was going to be expressed though, still remained to be seen. 

Now determined, Geralt slipped out of bed and put on some pants. No declaration of his love would be made in his underthings, lest Jaskier get the wrong idea. The inn was dead quiet, the typical nighttime crowd thinning out just before sunrise and the other inhabitants still in their rooms. It was incredibly hard for him to keep quiet as he crept out of his room and made his way down the hall to Jaskier’s. Despite his best efforts, he simply couldn’t tip-toe. 

He didn’t bother knocking, he could hear the snoring from the hallway. Geralt had almost debated turning around and forgetting the idea completely. Jaskier would be in no mood to talk this early in the morning and especially not after how hurt he seemed last night. He turned on his heels and prepared to give up completely, but then an idea struck him. 

Maybe he didn’t have to talk at all to express how he felt. 

Now emboldened with this new idea, he slowly walked back towards the door and opened it without so much as a creak. He had impressed himself with his silence and walked into the room with confidence, maybe this wouldn’t be as hard as he worked it up to be. Geralt had expected to find Jaskier sleeping like a baby as he usually did; curled into a fetal position and using his arms as a pillow, even if there already was one.

That was quite the opposite. 

Jaskier had cried himself to sleep that night, not out of sadness, but in frustration. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, he hadn’t planned to lose his temper or leave like a disgruntled child. It was supposed to be soft and romantic; grabbing Geralt by his hands and telling him how he felt under the light of the moon. It was the creative in him, ever dreaming up new unrealistic scenarios that in the end just left him disappointed and hurt. He even considered for a split second writing a ballad about it. 

His face was still left red and puffy, even in the early morning light. Deep caverns wore into his under-eyes, made from the flow of tears and how hard he had squinted to try and make them stop. The tip of his nose leading to his Cupid’s bow was rubbed raw from his incessant wiping; he looked like a wreck. The bed covers were strewn all over the place, only one of the corners covered him and the rest slipped to the floor. It wasn’t funny, but Geralt laughed to himself under his breath. He knew he had it bad for the bard, even when he looked like a chaotic mess, to him he was still beautiful. 

That was another word he had come up with in his sleep for him: beautiful. Along with funny, talented and he even went as far as to think entertaining. It was strange to Geralt still, thinking of Jaskier in this way after months of trying to figure out how to get rid of him. He had focused so hard that he hadn’t even realized the growing fondness that came right along with it. 

He tilted his head to the side as he walked closer to the bed, Geralt was a large man so it would be an interesting task trying to get into it without Jaskier waking up. That was his brilliant plan, climbing into bed with him in an attempt to show his affections. He would never be able to say it properly with words, there was just too much to unpack for the point to ever get across. A letter had even come into his mind, but the risk of anyone else finding it was too great for him to consider it. 

There was a sizable gap behind Jaskier’s back and it was just enough for Geralt to attempt to slide into. He tried his absolute best to step lightly around the frame and lay overtop the covers as to not disturb him. Geralt was there, laying next to him, and absolutely petrified to move any further. Jaskier didn’t give him much of an option though, flipping over suddenly in the midst of sleep and making their faces now only inches apart. An arm shot out from under his head, looking for an empty spot of sheet but instead finding Geralt’s cheek. 

Jaskier felt the stubble with his fingers, identifying it as such before his eyes flipped open and widened in shock, “Ah! Geralt? What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Um.” Conversation was not one of the things he learned in training. He didn’t know what to say, in all of the scenarios he played through his head, this had surprisingly not been one of them. “Go back to sleep.”  
Jaskier furrowed his brows, too tired to argue but too surprised to not say anything, “If someone told me two days ago that I’d have Geralt of Rivia in my bed, I’d have called them a dirty liar.”

“Is this not ok?” He had become worried then of pushing it too far. If Jaskier didn’t know what he was trying to do, not only would any romantic prospects be ruined, but their companionship as a whole. The awkwardness of such a rejection at this point would be too much to bear.

He came closer to Geralt and threw his hands around his neck, making the Witcher tense completely and become stiff as a board, “More than ok.” Jaskier took quick note of the worried, almost frightened look on his face. His amber eyes wider than he’d ever seen them. “You’ve never done this before have you?”  
  
“Hm?” 

“Shared a bed with another man, you look like you’re petrified.” 

Geralt looked into his eyes, the burning sensation that he now knew to be love filling his chest. How he let himself be blind to these feelings made him feel so stupid. It was right there in front of him the entire time, maybe not as he expected, but there nonetheless. 

He put a nervous hand to Jaskier’s chest and pushed, gently separating them, “Do we have to talk so much?” 

The bard smiled and closed his eyes, “No, but if you’re going to come into _my _bed and try to cuddle _me _, we’re doing this _my _way.”______

_____ _

_____“Wha-“ Jaskier gave him no time to object as he climbed on top of him. Slipping two arms behind his head and finding a home in the crook of his neck. He was practically sitting on Geralt’s thigh, one leg wrapped under his and the other hiked at the knee to meet his hip; they were completely intertwined. Geralt kept his arms out at his sides, both to let Jaskier get comfortable and also because he had no idea where to put them._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“On my back.” He mumbled into Geralt’s hair as though he heard his silent struggle._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____For once, he actually did what he was told, slowly bringing one hand to the nape of Jaskier’s neck and the other at the base of his spine. This was comfortable, he was comfortable and as much of a rarity as it was, he felt safe. They sat in silence for what felt like hours, Jaskier slowly drifting back off into a deep sleep and snoring right into Geralt’s ear. He didn’t mind, contently allowing himself to serve as some makeshift bed and enjoy the moment in which he created._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____The Witcher had slayed many monsters, but climbing into bed with Jaskier had worried him more than being attacked by any of them. The thought made him laugh to himself, forgetting that Jaskier could feel his body move and waking him up._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____He stirred, stretching his arms out above both of their heads and tapping Geralt on the shoulder, “Did you want to talk about this now?”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“What?”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____Jaskier rolled his eyes and looked down at their tangled legs, gesturing more specifically to the hand that lingered on his back. “The weather. Our being here together of course, what else? I don’t mind obviously, but I was curious as to how you managed to get so keen on the idea.” He settled comfortably back into Geralt’s neck and played with the hair in front of his face_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“You talk a lot.”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“And you don’t talk enough, did you expect to just come in here and not have me ask any questions?”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____Geralt sighed, moving them both, “I had hoped so.”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____Jaskier thought for a moment, “Fine. Tell me in once sentence or less why you, Geralt of Rivia, have come into my bed this morning.”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____He looked into the bard’s eyes and watched the look come over his face again. The sadness wasn’t there anymore however, and the longing had faded into the background. Happiness swelled into his irises now, only growing when he felt Geralt absentmindedly trace patterns into the small of his back. His tear-stained eyes and blotchy cheeks barely made a dent in how perfect he looked right now, Geralt felt himself swoon. He didn’t need much to think, his heart taking control of his tongue rather than his brain._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“I’m here because I love you too.”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____Jaskier leaned on his elbows in astonishment, forgetting that he was laying on Geralt and poking him in the ribs, “Wh- what? You what?” He was breathless and trying to comprehend the statement. He had almost fully prepared himself for his own admission, accepting the consequences if Geralt had ultimately not felt the same. Worrying himself sick over that, Jaskier had never considered what would come of his feeling being reciprocated._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“I- I love you too?” Geralt became confused because he was confused and attempted to sit up to break them apart in fear of a negative reaction; the silence made him nervous. Jaskier could hear the rhythm of Geralt’s heart pick up in shutters of anxiety and he knew he had stayed quiet too long._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____He coughed and sat up on his knees between Geralt’s legs, “You… love me…too.”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“That’s what I said isn’t it?”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“It is what you said isn’t it.” He furrowed his brow and pinched himself to affirm he wasn’t still asleep, “And why is that? Wait don’t answer that, you already gave me your sentence, um. I didn’t- I don’t, Wow-“_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“Oh my God shut the fuck up.” Geralt leaned forward and cupped both sides of his face, kissing him without any trepidation. He hadn’t thought about it, he just did it._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____Jaskier’s eyes went wide, he had expected this far less than anything that had happened in the last half an hour. It felt good though, natural. His hands found their way to Geralt’s hips and he leaned into him, accepting his blunt offer and enjoying every second. Geralt pulled away first, he didn’t want to get carried away. He also found himself missing Jaskier’s face; another new thing which he put away for later._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____Jaskier hadn’t opened his eyes yet, but he was smiling like an idiot and felt around the mattress for Geralt’s hand. He held it with both of his and touched every finger to make sure he hadn’t gone anywhere. The joy was overwhelming, but he managed to calm down enough to speak again._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“Well, you love me too.” He opened his eyes, still smiling._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____The Witcher rolled his eyes and laid back down, extending an arm as an invitation for Jaskier to fall in next to him. In these few short moments in this room he had grown more confident in his emotions than he had in all his life. Jaskier meant more to him than anyone else, both as a person to keep safe and as one he held close to his usually cold heart. His ability to express this, in whatever form just transpired, had proved to not only Jaskier but to himself that he was less dead inside that he originally thought._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____Jaskier laid down, Geralt’s arm slowly sweeping its way back to its original position on the small of his back. It was his turn to fall asleep now, he was exhausted and now could relax long enough to finally pass out. His eyes flickering before eventually falling shut, the sun shining on his chest had created a warm patch and lulled him closer to sleep with every minute that passed._ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____Jaskier piped up directly in his ear, “So what does this-“_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“Shut the fuck up.”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _

_____“Alrighty then!”_ _ _ _ _

_____ _


	5. Hop On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They leave the village, their coin collected and feelings out in the open; Geralt gives one final gesture that cements how much Jaskier means to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of fun writing this, I'm glad you guys enjoyed reading it. Thanks for all the kudos!

They only had another few moments of silence before the innkeeper banged on their door and said their time with the rooms was up. Their not-so silent morning had come to an end and it was time to go back into the world of killing monsters and looking over your shoulder. These realities on any normal day would’ve thrilled Geralt, the adrenaline from thinking about his next battle would wake him up at the crack of dawn. 

This morning however, was not one of those mornings. 

Jaskier woke up when the innkeeper yelled through the door, but he didn’t move. He wanted Geralt to wake him up by any means necessary. This moment was too sweet to him, too rare; he had no idea when or even if this would ever happen again. He’d relish in it even if that meant irritating Geralt, now with full confidence that no harm would come his way. 

“Hey, get up. We’ve got to get moving.” Geralt said in a husky whisper, the rise and fall of his chest shaking Jaskier on top of him. 

He didn’t move, eyes still closed and trying his hardest to keep his grin contained. The bard felt a gentle poke at his ribs, then the hand resting to comfortably on his back starting to tickle him. He squirmed, but tried and ultimately failed to stifle a loud laugh. 

Jaskier whined and looked up at Geralt, who was also trying his best not to smile, “Do we really have to go?” 

“Hm.” 

He frowned, “Are we back to that already?” 

Geralt smirked and shifted, pushing Jaskier off of his chest and onto the other side of the bed, “Hm.” 

They dressed and gathered their things, Geralt slipping back into his room to collect his weapons and tidy up a bit. Jaskier was alone, thinking only of the morning and how lucky he really was. This could’ve gone a number of ways, most end results being with Geralt leaving and never looking back. It would’ve be the base for an epic song, one he had already started putting together in his laments twelve hours prior; thankful now that it could be scrapped completely. Although they had yet to discuss what was to come next, he was full of joy that anything had even happened at all. Who else could say that they’ve had a Witcher declare their love for them? 

He practically danced around his room, spinning himself in pirouettes towards the door and closing it behind him with a curtsey. Becoming embarrassed only when he saw the barkeep in the hall coming out of the room across the hall with a rag and bucket of water. 

She laughed, “So I guess your night was eventful?” 

He sped towards her and grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking lightly and making sure to whisper, “Get your mind out of the gutter! No, last night I told him that I loved him, it was sort of an outburst, never mind that bit. Anyway, you’ll never believe this! This morning he comes into my room and says that he loves me too!”

“What?” Her eyes went wide in excitement, Jaskier’s own tending to be contagious, “The Witcher can love? You learn new things everyday…that’s fantastic!” 

He leaned in close to her ear and whispered, “He kissed me too.” 

“WHAT!” The barkeep shouted, a bright smile coming over her face just as Geralt closed the door of his room and came out into the hall. The happiness from earlier had worn away and he now looked as he always did, brooding with a hint of annoyance. 

“What are you two gossiping about? Nothing about me I hope.” 

They both turned from one another and smiled nervously at Geralt, the barkeep patting Jaskier on the shoulder and slowly inching away to the stairs. “Best of luck you two!” She threw a wink in Jaskier’s direction and disappeared into the tavern below.

He looked back to Geralt who had his hands on his hips and his head tilted to the side, “I really can’t leave you anywhere can I? What was that about?” 

“Oh don’t look at me like that! She’s just a friend, helped our situation considerably if I may add, she’s a smart broad.” 

“And what exactly is our situation?” Geralt furrowed his brows and looked at him intently. 

He was confused now and pointed to the room and back and forth between them, “Our- what we just-“ He pointed to his lips, “We kissed?” 

“Hm.” Geralt smiled slyly and started towards the stairs, leaving Jaskier sputtering and confused behind him. 

By the time Jaskier caught up from his mental gymnastics, Geralt had already packed up and mounted Roach, waiting patiently for him by the dirt road. 

If there was a thing Jaskier knew never to do, was to try and get on Roach. They had only tried it once, Jaskier taking the back seat and using the spare time to tune his lute. The incessant sound of the strings had driven Geralt mad and from there on out he was stuck to try and keep up from the ground. That was fine and well for most of the fall and the spring, it had only become trouble as they eased steadily into summer. 

The sun was hot this morning, beating down on the ground and making the breeze itself feel like fire. Geralt knew that he would have a million thing to say all the way to wherever the monsters led them. However, he had already become more keen on the idea of letting Jaskier ride Roach, he had only cast out the idea for two key reasons before. 

The first being that no one was allowed to touch Roach besides him; Jaskier had broken the rule almost immediately though and the two of them had since ganged up on Geralt repeatedly. The second reason had been to keep some distance between them; Jaskier’s open fondness and the mounting confusion of his own feelings would only make contact all the more uncomfortable for him. Now that both rules had recently become null and void, there was no logical reason besides his own pettiness to not let the bard ride with him. 

Jaskier fumbled out of the inn, the sudden shock of the sun in his eyes making him almost trip on a bucket, “Good fucking _God _it’s hot out.”__

__There was also the whining, he didn’t want to hear the whining._ _

__Geralt started to ride away, slowly, he just wanted to see the look of annoyance on Jaskier’s face. He thought it was cute the way his eyebrows reached the top of his face and how he mumbled curses he thought Geralt couldn’t hear._ _

__“Motherfucker…” Jaskier stomped along and heard Geralt chuckle, “Was that a laugh? You get down here and see if you think it’s funny.”_ _

__Geralt stopped the horse and looked down at him, “Hop on.”_ _

__“What?”_ _

__“You heard me,” He reached down and extended a hand, “I’ll pull you up, hop on.”_ _

Jaskier hesitated for a second before taking Geralt’s hand, settling himself and reaching his hands around his waist. The Witcher tensed at his touch, he hadn’t completely gotten used to such unexpected physical affections; despite how he spent his morning. They both chose to ignore it and rode off into the woods, Jaskier dramatically waving behind them and blowing kisses to the inn. Even if the village looked like a camp, it had done more for him than any other before it. He walked in a sexually frustrated middle-man and left with White Wolf falling asleep underneath him. In his opinion, this had been a very successful trip to say the least.  
  
The ride was conversationless for a few hours, Geralt intently focusing on not killing them through the rough terrain and Jaskier lightly humming to himself. If he wasn’t on Roaches back one would assume that the events of this morning had never even occurred. This bothered him, as he had still not fully convinced himself that it hadn’t been a highly-realistic dream. 

__

__“Geralt?”_ _

__

__“What?”_ _

__

__“Can you look at me for a second?”_ _

__

__Roach stopped and Geralt sighed, he didn’t really want to talk and the heat had made him agitated. His style of dress in its typical grays and blacks weren’t made for this type of weather. “What is it?”_ _

__

__Jaskier hesitated before continuing, “This morning happened right? The heat isn’t making me imagine things that never really happened? Because I could’ve sworn that-“_ _

__

__“How many times do I have to tell you that you talk too much?” Geralt let go of the reins and leaned back, interrupting the still rambling bard and bringing him into a kiss. He almost knocked him off the horse, making Jaskier grab onto the collar of Geralt’s shirt for balance._ _

__

__They had no intention of pulling away this time, fireworks going off in both of their guts deepening their kiss and making a mess of their thoughts. Roach didn’t like standing in the heat though and with a loud whinny and kick of her legs, Geralt had to get back to it. He was reluctant to stop, grumbling to himself before he inevitably had to pull away._ _

__

__Jaskier was once again left speechless by the forwardness of the action, “All you had to say was yes, but that worked just fine.” He suddenly remembered the ballad he was working on and pulled his lute from off his back._ _

__

__Geralt heard the sound of the tuning instrument and immediately got annoyed, the very sound triggered the emotion in his brain and no amount of kisses would prevent it, “You’re not playing that thing up here.”_ _

__

__“Oh yes I am, me complaining from the heat is worse so pick your poison.” Jaskier knew he wouldn’t be made to get down and fully used this to his advantage. “Did you want to hear the first few lines or cut straight to the action?”_ _

__

__“Preferably neither.”_ _

__

__“The action it is then!”_ _

__

__Geralt stopped the horse again, this time not turning to face him, “If you start I’ll never kiss you again.”_ _

__

__Jaskier had gotten his lute tuned to perfection and the lyrics memorized. He pat the Witcher’s shoulder patronizingly, “That doesn’t mean I can’t kiss you, O’ Brave One.”, and began to sing._ _

__

__He had to pretend he hated it, keeping his head facing forward and paying no mind to what was going on behind him. Despite his best efforts, Geralt couldn’t help but smile affectionately at Jaskier’s voice. It’d be worse is he was a great writer and a terrible singer, but that just wasn’t the case. It was melodic and beautiful and the rhymes he insisted on making were quite clever, although he’d never admit it. Singing in taverns and roadside were fine, he didn’t have to be there; but singing right in his ear in on inescapable journey was something he couldn’t reward._ _

__

__“…Tell this tale to your babes and your Mrs, for the Witcher’s blood was spilled to fulfill all your wishes!” Jaskier was quite proud and gave himself a small applause. “You didn’t tell me to stop so I assume you were quite thoroughly entertained.”_ _

__

__Geralt grinned and tried his best not to chuckle, “Hm.”_ _

__

__“I’ll take that as a yes, you stoic bastard.” Jaskier leaned in and planted a kiss on Geralt’s cheek, feeling the heat of a blush under his lips._ _

__

__Wherever the road in front of them decided to lead them was to remain a mystery, the Witcher had grown to expect the unexpected. They could be in a new town by morning or left wandering in the forest for the next week. Usually such a juxtaposition of events would sooth him, adventure despite its dangers had been the backbone of his life. However, he realized now that such uncertainty worried him; Geralt had another to care about now besides himself. Jaskier’s safety was on his mind before, more in the means of getting himself killed in stupidity rather than real danger. The bard had a tendency to walk himself straight into the belly of many beasts and not realize it until it was almost too late._ _

__

__He vowed to himself in that moment that Jaskier’s safety was of the utmost importance to him; even if it was he who got himself into such trouble. Geralt loved him, such a rare occurrence made Jaskier the only one he’d lay down his life for; besides Roach of course._ _

__

__“I love you.”_ _

__

__Jaskier hugged him from behind, his body relaxing rather than tensing, “I love you too, does this mean you want to hear another song?”_ _

__

__He sighed, smiling to himself again, “Sure.”_ _

__


	6. Jaskier's Ballad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't a full chapter, just what Jaskier had come up with for his ballad throughout the trip. Whether it's fully accurate to what he saw or not isn't important, the people must be entertained!

I was told to stay, but tagged along anyway,

Witnessing another epic battle of Geralt of Rivia’s.

He slashed and punched and he seldom fell,

The veins in his great arms and brow beginning to swell.

His wounds not ceasing his hunger to prevail.

It looked like the end, sweat matting his hair,

Until the head came off and spilled blood everywhere!

With a glint in his eyes and tremble in his thighs,

He fell to his knees and let out a great cry:

“The White Wolf has fought and won again, freeing all of the Women, Children and Men.”

Tell this tale to your babes and your Mrs.,

For the Witcher’s blood spilled to fulfill all your wishes!


End file.
